


One Hundred and Ten

by OurLittleSecretOkay



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLittleSecretOkay/pseuds/OurLittleSecretOkay
Summary: Guitar, campfires, and kissing. What more could you hope to find under this tag?





	One Hundred and Ten

“Don't you just love it?” He poked at the fire with a large stick, enjoying the way the embers crackled and flew up into the air. Grinning, he looked over his shoulder at his CBFL, surprised to find that she didn't seem to share his enthusiasm.   
“Fantastic.” The word fell from between her teeth heavily.   
“Come on Gwen! Even you can't resist a good campfire-”  
“Watch me.”  
“Cheer up! It’s a Friday! Free day tomorrow!” his voice lilted melodically.   
“Oh yeah, plenty to do in the middle of nowhere.”  
“Oh, come on! There’s plenty to do! If we get up early enough, we can go for a sunrise hike-”  
“The kids are asleep, you can turn off.”   
“Turn off?”  
“Jesus Christ, David. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you calm down.”  
“Don’t be silly!”  
“I swear, you’re like a behavioral-problem laden puppy even in your sleep. You are literally incapable.”  
He looked back at the fire, watching the orange flickering of the logs. The last thing he wanted to do was annoy her; that was no way to start the weekend. Sitting down beside her on the ground, he leaned his weight back on his hands, silent for a long moment.  
“Is this calm enough?” His voice buzzed with energy.  
She smirked, holding her knees to her chest in the dark, “Better.”   
“Know what would make it even better?”  
“Don't say a song.”  
He frowned, offended, “I wasn't going to.”  
“Yes you were.”   
“... So?”

Pulling his guitar closer to himself, he began gently plucking at the strings. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft acoustic hum.   
She didn't understand him. It wasn't like he was a happy person--anyone who had to go through “smiling exercises” every morning wasn't a happy person. No, worse; he was unceasing. He never took a break from giving 110%. She often wondered how anyone could feel that much, where he got the energy from, how he kept himself from just collapsing. She hadn’t been 110% anything in her entire life. She looked over at him, his gaze concentrated on his hands as he continued to strum. Even when he was calm, he still radiated excitement. He caught her watching and smiled at her, evidently pleased at her lack of admonishment. She sighed.  
“You don't ever stop, do you?”  
“Stop what?”  
“Just, stop. You know… Stop. Don't you ever get tired?”   
He stopped playing, and she immediately felt sorry for having said anything. Just because she was irritated at life didn't mean he had to be too. But then he smiled again, a soft, genuine smile, and looking down, he began to play a new song.  
“Of course, silly. Everyone gets tired.”  
“So what happens when you get tired? What happens when you stop?”  
He didn't look up, but he plucked the notes with a greater determination of focus.   
“I… make a list of reasons not to. And then I don't.”   
“You can't just refuse to be tired.”  
“Of course not.” He didn't offer anything else, and she didn't know what to say, so they just sat in silence, feeling the crackling warmth of the fire. 

“I mean-” she broke the quiet.  
“For someone so interested in calming down,” he interrupted her, “you seem very fixated on doing anything but.” He smiled amusedly at the look of offense on her face. “Maybe you're the one who needs a break.”  
She sighed, “Yeah. Maybe.”  
“Although you shouldn't take that as an invitation to leave,” he tacked on quickly as addendum. She laughed, relaxing back.   
“Oh, of course not. Heaven forbid.”  
“Why are you so interested all of a sudden? What's up?”  
She shrugged, “I don't know, I just… wondered.”   
“About my relaxation schedule?”  
“If you even have one.”  
“I love my work, Gwen, I don't need one.”  
“Yeah, but-”  
“Just let it be, Gwendolyn. Just. Let it be.”   
There was another lapse of silence as he continued playing softly. She really did need a rest. She'd been way too high strung lately. Of course, even with dark eyebags she still looked cute. She always looked cute. She really did need to sleep more, though.   
“Did you… was this fire a trick to get me to relax?”  
“You deserve a break--don't question it.”  
“But was it?”  
“That depends; is it working?”   
Smiling, she elbowed him a bit rougher than was necessary, causing his hands to slip, plying a sour note. He didn't mind though; he just liked that she had smiled.

She watched his hands slide over the strings. He really had nice hands. It was one of those little traits that you don't notice at first, but once you do, you can't stop. His face was settled in a look of quiet pleasure, the light of the fire flickering over his face, only emphasizing just how incredibly red his hair was. She had to smile at that. He wasn't a stud by any means, but he was a comfortable sort of cute, an inoffensive sort of cute, what with his freckles and gangly frame. Of course, she had to tease him for both, it was only natural. Still.   
“But seriously; don't you ever take a break?”  
“Of course I do. You just don't notice.”  
“I seriously can't picture you relaxed. What does ‘David’s happy-place’ look like?”  
“Ideally?” He thought it over quietly. “Camping, with a fire, some music, and,” he looked over at her again, smiling dorkily, “a good friend.”   
Always too comfortable within others’ personal space, he slung his arm over her in a hug, corny to the last. She leaned her head into his shoulder, rolling her eyes, not bothering to lean away even after he resumed playing. He smelled like campfire smoke and mint and waxed wood.   
“Did you know that you're a massive nerd?”  
A good friend. Why did that phrase sit in her chest like a stone? 

 

“I had some idea.” He hoped the flush of his cheeks could be passed off as an effect of the heat. His fingers pulled at the strings, just a bit too tense. For once, the silence was comfortable, filled with the popping of fire and hum of the guitar. It was ideal, and normally he’d be all about taking it all in, but the only thing he could focus on was the throbbing heat of her cheek against him. Gently, she reached out, touching the wood of his guitar. He tried to keep his hand steady.   
“How'd you learn to play?”  
“Taught myself.”  
“Really?”  
“Practice makes perfect.” He strummed a wavering chord and then carefully, handed the guitar to her. “Here, you try.”   
He was sorry to have her shift away, but in the warm glow of the fire she looked… well, she looked beautiful. The light glinted off the polished wood, throwing soft shadows over her face, creating divots when she furrowed her brow in concentration. The sight tied a knot in his stomach. 

The weight of it felt unsteady in her hands. She gripped it tightly, careful to make sure it didn't fall. As much irritation as it had brought her over the years, she knew how important it was to him. Softly, she strummed the strings, creating a sour G chord.   
He smiled excitedly, “Hey, that was good!”  
She shook her head, “I haven't played since I was a kid.”   
“It's never too late to get back into it.”  
“Nah, I don't have time now.”  
“Sure you do! I'll teach you!” His face was warm in the orange light. She looked down, forcing her mouth into a frown. She didn't have time to get caught up in him. She didn't have the patience required. He was just… so much. He was so good, and it was too much. It was strange; everything about him was so complicated, but the more you looked at it, the less complicated it became. Maybe it was just her mess that made her want to complicate him. But then his hands were over hers, sliding her fingers up along the frets and she had a hard time reminding herself that he was an impossibility. “Here, just… try now.” She strummed again, and the chord rang out clearly. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked so proud of her. “See? You've got it!”   
It was easier to believe it was all an act if you didn't know him. But he was just so goddamn honestly good. He reached out again excitedly, genuinely thrilled as he gripped her hand, “Here, now-”  
He paused, catching her heavy stare. Slowly he let go, pulling his hand away embarrassedly.

“Oh, sorry, I-”   
“No! It's fine- it's…” She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking back down. “What, uh, what next?”   
“Well, if you move you hands here…” he touched her hesitantly, gauging her reaction. For such an emotive person she really was incredibly hard to read at times. She didn't seem overtly distressed though. He couldn't tell if the red blush covering her nose was indignation or sunburn, but it looked good on her. Of course it did. He was a simple man--he'd be the first to admit to that.   
She looked up at him expectantly as she strummed the guitar, hiding her smile after he congratulated her. She made a point of never getting too happy. It was probably a good thing--they balanced each other well--but he'd still like to see her feel good about herself for once.   
“There! You can play two notes now--that's almost a song!”   
She cocked an eyebrow, amused, “Oh yeah?”  
“Absolutely! We'll have you ship-shape in no time.”   
“We'll see about that.”  
“Don't be so harsh!” he hurriedly pulled a stick from the pile of wood, “You're doing just pine!”   
She stared at him vacantly, “Wow, I… really hated that.”   
“I don't cedar the problem!”  
“You're a real pain in the-”  
“Aspen?”

“Oh my god.” She looked back down at the guitar, haunted by his chipper tone. Ha, chipper. She shook her head, clearing the thought.  
“So that settles it, you don't stop.”  
His smile wavered a bit, “Sorry, too much?”  
“You're fine, you're just… you.”   
How do you say “you are fundamentally a lot as a human being” without sounding annoyed? She wondered. Because he was annoying. And irritating. And just a goddamn LOT, but… He was David. That's just who he was.  
“Do you think I'm ready to move onto note three?”   
“Gwen, I think you were BORN ready!” She couldn't help but laugh at the seriousness in his voice. “I haven't been too horrible a teacher to continue?”   
“Not too horrible.”   
“Alright, here-” he readjusted the guitar in her hands before frowning at her fingers, trying to move them individually. His hands were surprisingly gentle for how incredibly rough his skin was. Years of wilderness survival had thoroughly calloused them. “No, it needs to be more like- Here, wait a sec,” moving behind her, he placed his hands over her own, sliding them into place. She was grateful that he couldn't see her expression as he effectively made her a Gwen sandwich between him and his guitar. His chest pressed into her back as he peered over her shoulder, and she didn't hate it. For such a skinny man, his embrace was surprisingly comforting. She hoped he couldn't feel just how hard her heart was beating. 

Unsteadily, he held her wrist, motioning for her to strum. The chord wavered hesitantly in the air, clear and harmonious.   
“Perfect! You’re a star!” Without thinking, he hugged her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Both of them froze, his pulse rattling in his ears. Perhaps a bit too quickly, he pushed off from her, scrambling back to his original spot.  
“Yes, well,” he tried to keep his voice level. “Good. That was… good. The playing- you…” he trailed off, staring into the fire as if he might fling himself into it. “I… sorry.”  
“Uh… David, I-”  
“Yes! I mean, sorry! I mean-”  
“No, David-”  
“I'll just leave you to it, then-”   
He moved to stand, but she caught his wrist, keeping him grounded. She was going to quit now, wasn't she? He had blown it.   
But then she was leaning over his guitar, and she was kissing him. She was surprisingly soft, and all he could think about over the sound of his own panic was how nice her lips felt against his.   
He felt the negative space buzzing all the more acutely as she pulled back, a warm flush over her nose. 

He stared at her, not saying anything. Shit. She'd misread the situation, hadn't she? Of course he was just being overly affectionate- hadn’t she met the man before?  
“I- I'm sorry, I just-”  
But then he was taking the guitar from her hands, placing it perhaps a bit too roughly aside as his other hand held her cheek, pulling her into another kiss. He wasn't as panicky as she would have expected, she noted with surprise. Typical, of course he had to give this 110% as well. 

Brushing her face with the pads of his thumbs, he broke the kiss softly.  
“I- Is this okay?”  
“Yeah.” Her breath was hot against his lips.   
“Do you- Can I-”  
“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back against herself. He encircled her waist with his arms happily, exuberantly feeling the warm weight of her against him. Her legs pressed into his sides as he leaned into her, grateful for the way she arched to meet him. She was just as perfect as he had known she would be, just as warm and soft as he had suspected.

The rocks and dirt dug into her skin but she didn't care, couldn't care. Carefully, perhaps too carefully, he pulled her against himself, his narrow hands tugging at her as if she too was an instrument he wanted to play. And god, she wanted him too. If he fucked with even a quarter of the energy with which he lived the rest of his life… She admonished herself for jumping the gun so quickly. She at least ought to hold out for three dates, right? But then his hand was dancing up her frame and her grip tightened reflexively at the perfect sensation.   
She tangled her fingers in his hair, trying to hold him to herself. He pushed back, meeting her exuberance. For once they were on the same page. Experimentally, she opened her lips, pressing her tongue against his teeth. His grip on her tightened as he met her movements, hesitantly pushing back, deepening the kiss. 

Her hands traced down his body, occasionally stopping and gripping the fabric of his shirt. He tried to control his ragged breathing, tried not to get too far ahead of himself. Just because she was beautiful and kissing him, that didn't mean anything. He mustn't read too far into it. Although, it was rather difficult not to read into the way she gripped the waist of his pants, tugging him forward by his belt loops.   
Quickly, he leaned back, holding her far enough away that they could see eye-to-eye.   
She let go of him quickly, “I'm so sorry, was that too much-”  
“No! That was,” he cleared his throat, “No, I just- Is this okay? Are you okay?”   
“Yeah, of course, I mean- Are you okay?”  
“I am… more than okay. I'm…” he looked around at the trees surrounding them, feeling the sudden pressure of the moment, “oaky.”   
She blinked up at him, “You… Please tell me you did not just try to seduce me with a pun.”   
“It depends; is it working?” There was an unappealing squeak to his tone.  
She paused, “I want to say no, but-”   
He didn't give her a chance to finish, kissing her again.   
“Just for the record-” he broke the kiss quickly, “This wasn't the plan. I mean, I didn't set out for this, I just-”  
“Just let it be, David. Just, let it be.” 

She felt ridiculously like a teenager, holding his arm as they walked back to the cabin, stopping every few feet to make out some more. It was a nice feeling. Unexpected, but nice.   
She tugged him through the door by his collar, pulling him down to her height so that she could kiss him again. He kicked the door shut behind him, pulling her back so that she was tight against him. She wondered if he could feel how hard her heart was beating. This didn't make any sense, right? This shouldn't be happening. But there he was, clumsily following her to her bed, and all she felt was excitement. 

The churning in his belly was overwhelming. She didn't waste any time in crawling onto the bed, pulling him along with her. His heart raced at the sight. This was happening. This was probably going to happen. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips opening again to invite his tongue back in. He complied eagerly, happy to oblige. Her knees pressed into his sides as he pulled her against himself, feeling the way she fit against his body. He groaned into the kiss, positively intoxicated by her. She broke away to catch her breath, and he took the opportunity to move to her neck, kissing the small hollows beneath her jaw. She gasped quietly, tightening her grip. His head swam with the sensation, overwhelmed by all of her. Impatiently, her hands moved down his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. It got stuck briefly, pulling off his bandana with it, but as soon as it did he kissed her again, hoping to prolong the moment until she finally realized he didn't have a six-pack. 

She slid her hands along his bare chest, marveling at just how warm he was. His fingers toyed with the edges of her own shirt, teasing her but not committing. Taking the initiative, she pulled it off herself, tossing it aside before pressing back against him. His arms encircled her hips, pulling her up against himself, sliding her up into his lap until she was pressed to his chest. She had only a moment to appreciate the exuberant glint in his eye before he was kissing her again, holding her tight to himself. Gingerly, he began to trace his way up her body, taking his damn time over the curve of her waist and hips. Eventually he reached her upper ribs, pausing at her bra.  
“I… do you need help?” She asked awkwardly.  
“No, just wanted to make sure-”  
“Still fine.”  
“Okay.” 

He wondered if she could feel him smiling through the kiss. He ran his fingers along the underside of her breasts. Her breath caught against his teeth. He hesitated.  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she mumbled, taking his hand and placing it on her breast. He could feel himself tense in surprise. She clicked her teeth, “Took you all night just to get to second base.”  
“But this isn't just any second base,” he tried to steady his tone, “this is perhaps the greatest second base to ever exist.”  
“Yeah yeah, okay.”   
“I'm serious!”   
“As am I.” She slid back, tugging him forward by his belt loops again.   
He didn't bother trying to reply, knowing that anything he said would be undone by the embarrassing high pitch it was said in.   
Instead, he ran his hands over her legs, tugging her own waistband down with a feeling of elated terror. 

Quickly, she slid off the bed, standing long enough to take off her shorts. He let his legs dangle over the edge, watching her. When she straightened up again, he was smiling so much that it seemed he might burst.  
“What?” She tried to conceal the nervous irritation in her voice.   
“Did you know that you're the most beautiful camp counselor ever?”  
She rolled her eyes at the compliment, trying to hide just how flattered she felt, “Yeah, whatever.”  
“No, Gwen,” he pulled her between his knees, running his hands up her bare thighs, “you are… the most beautiful-”  
“That’s incredibly sappy.”  
“That doesn't make it less true.”  
She smiled but didn't respond, hoping he wouldn't notice her embarrassed blush.  
“Here, just-” Hoping to distract him, she tugged his belt open. Sliding his pants off quickly, he kicked them to the floor, not wanting to take his hands off her. 

She pressed herself back to his chest, the soft heat of her almost too much. Almost.   
“Gwen, listen,” he broke away from the kiss she had initiated, “I need to know that you'll tell me to stop if-”  
“Don't stop.” She slid her tongue between his teeth, climbing into his lap. 

His hands ran eager beneath her thighs, lacing behind her, pulling her against him. She rolled her hips forward, the tantalizing warmth of his body invitingly tempting. Despite the heated friction, she was still surprised at the growing hardness pressed into her leg. Sure, she had known he was… well… a man, but she'd never given it much thought before. It was hard to picture him as a person with sexual longing. It was becoming harder to ignore though, particularly as his hands slid up her back, unhooking her bra. She discarded it quickly, glad for the feeling of his touch against her bare skin. She could feel his breath falter with every movement of hers, his desperation meeting his desire.   
She leaned forward, kissing his neck, trailing her hands down the taut muscles of his back. He tightened his grip on her in response, pulling at her hips, tugging her closer to him. He let out an adorably needy whimper when she nipped the skin beneath his jaw with her teeth, the sound vibrating throughout her. 

Slowly, he ran his fingers across her, feeling positively elated at the shuddering sigh she gave in reply. Hesitantly, he brought his hand back to her chest, carefully brushing at the soft skin. She made a sound that went straight to his crotch, and he had to fight the urge to shift away embarrassedly. She arched against him, her hips creating a staggeringly perfect pressure on his increasingly evident arousal. He took the opportunity to begin kissing her again, pressing his tongue between her teeth. He could feel her smile at his boldness, no doubt amused. So long as she was here, that was fine.   
And then her hands were moving painfully slowly down over his chest. He desperately fought the urge to squirm at the slight tickle. Her fingers dug into the skin along his hips, but then they didn't stop, seeping past the band of his briefs.   
The sound he made when she touched him was embarrassing, to be sure, but all of that was quickly overwhelmed by the feeling of her fingers around him. There was an initial hesitancy in her touch that disappeared quickly as he tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her face against his. 

He was always 110%, of that she could now be sure.   
He reacted superbly to her touch--open and excited, and positively glowing. It was… adorable. And really flattering, if she was being honest. His erection was now officially unignorable, and quite frankly, more than a bit intimidating. But hey, just because she was holding her only coworker’s dick in her hands was no reason to be nervous, right?   
He bucked into her touch reflexively, his lip caught between his teeth in adorable concentration. Unable to resist the urge, she kissed the tip of his nose placatingly, amused at his embarrassed response.  
“Holy smokes, Gwen.”   
She cocked her eyebrow, ready to tease him, but the way his fingers dug into her back was just too good, too perfect to berate him. She kissed along his jaw instead, interested to see what other witticisms he had in store--she could always tease him later. She was only semi-disappointed when instead of anything coherent, he just groaned, even his moans musical.   
Quickly, reluctantly, she pulled away, taking just a moment to rummage through the drawer beside her bed, producing a condom quickly.   
She held it up, cocking an eyebrow, “Yeah?”  
“Yeah,” his words were breathless as he sought to re-engage with her mouth, kissing her eagerly. She pulled the band of his briefs down, readjusting herself long enough to tug them over his thighs. For such a scrawny man, he really did look nice naked, she noted. His hands were rough against her skin as he gripped her, his fingers dancing between her waist and chest, trying to touch every bit of her. She had been right about his hands; they were marvelous.   
Slowly, but with growing confidence, he began to run his fingers along the elastic of her underwear, dipping his fingers beneath for quick moments, still waiting for her lead. She gasped as he did so, the sound turning over to a groan.  
“Don't be a fucking tease, David.”  
“I'm not- I mean, I just-”   
She cut off his words with another kiss, pushing her tongue between his teeth.   
Slowly, he worked his way beneath the thin fabric, and when he finally touched her, she could have died.   
There was a surprising, although not undeserved, confidence to his movements as he rubbed against her, eventually pushing a lean finger inside of her. She arched into his touch, sparks popping inside her belly at the sensation.   
“Crap!” She cried out, her fingers digging into his skin.   
He looked up at her, concerned, “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, just- do that again.”

He was happy to oblige, thrilled at the way her grip tightened into a vice, her voice muffled between her gritted teeth. He smiled, amazed at her constant perfection. She took his face between her shaking hands, kissing him so hard his toes curled.   
“I guess playing instruments does come in handy,” she muttered against his lips, the words hurried so that she could get them out. He smiled into the kiss before commencing to prove her right. He kissed along her neck, thrilled with the way her thighs pressed into his sides, her hands carelessly caught up in his hair. She was usually so… careful. It was nice.  
Determinedly, she lay him back on the bed, still straddling him with her blessed legs. She broke away just long enough to discard the last of her clothes, before climbing over him in a way he wouldn't have even dared imagine.   
Kissing him, her steady hands rolled the condom over his erection. He unsuccessfully tried to swallow a groan at the touch. Slowly, she straightened up into a kneeling position. Running his hands up her thighs, he brought them to rest on her hips, and then she was easing herself down over him, and it was bliss incarnate. Her fists tightened over the blanket on either side of his head, a groan caught perfectly between her teeth. Holding her waist, he rolled his hips upward, pressing himself inside her. She cried out, her open lips forming a perfect “O,” and he was gone.

He moved inside her, filling her, overwhelming her. She bobbed slowly, trying to find a comfortable pattern to match his thrusts. His hands were steady on her hips, gentle but firm, holding her tightly to him. When she looked at him, there was nothing but joyous wonder in his eyes. Always 110%, her David.  
A rolling pressure began to grow deliciously within her as he moved, a perfect collision of friction and touch, that threatened to boil over imminently.

“Don't stop,” she hissed from between grit teeth.   
“I wasn't planning to.”   
He ran his hands up her body, feeling the toned muscles of her back flex under his touch. He didn't think it was possible to be so happy, but she was undoubtedly the best thing he had ever seen. He tried to memorize the moment, desperate not to lose a single second of it.   
“Shit, David, I-” the rest of her words were lost as she cried out, her fingers tightening their grip. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.   
He bucked against her harder, savoring the way her nose crinkled in concentration. He'd tried to make it a point not to look before, but now it was all but impossible not to see that she had, in fact, the world's most perfect pair of breasts.   
It was strange to see her undone in this way, the intimacy of her kindness almost more erotic than her nakedness. Erotic. That was a word he'd never used to describe a co-worker before, but with her thighs pressed to his sides, she was nothing but. She was beautiful, she was ethereal, she was… Gwen. She was Gwen.

Her breath was a ragged metronome as she came, every breath a gasp for air. She kissed him wantingly, shoving her tongue between his teeth. He was… ideal. He was David, and he was wonderful, and as she rode out the persistent peals of pleasure, she was glad that it was his hands on her skin, his lips beneath hers. She was so glad it was his name being pulled from her teeth as residual fires bloomed behind her eyes, “Shit, David-”

The moment he let go of her he would wake up, he was sure of it. He was caught between never wanting to wake up and fearing how awkward it would be once he did. How were you supposed to share a cabin with someone you had a wet dream about? But then she groaned his name from between gritted teeth, and he knew for a fact that he'd never be able to make up something that perfect. 

She could feel his breath stutter and falter as he came, refusing to break away from the kiss. He cried out quietly against her lips, and her heart somersaulted down and out of her chest. He was her David. Hers. And the way his fingers dug into her legs made it seem like he didn't mind that in the least.   
Slowly, panting, he moved his hands up over her back, pulling her down to him. She didn't fight, only too happy with the way he pulled her to his chest, his hand curling over her shoulder, tucking her into his side. She pressed her face to the crook of his neck, breathing in the perfect, sweaty scent of him. He still smelled like campfire smoke, she noted, pressing a tired kiss to his skin. She listened to the ragged sound of him trying to catch his breath, exhausted and elated, and so, so very warm.

He rubbed at her shoulder, tracing soft patterns into her skin in the blissful silence, broken only by the ragged sound of their breathing. She hummed the occasional note of contentment as his hand danced over her still-sensitive skin, the two of them almost glowing in the dark room. He broke the silence first, clearing his throat.   
“Uh, Gwen?”  
“Yeah?”  
“That was nice.”  
“Yeah.” He could feel her smile press against his skin. He continued to stroke her softly.   
“At the risk of sounding too clueless, was this… Are we…” he trailed off, unsure how to say everything he needed said. She didn't respond right away, weighing her words.   
“I… don't know.”   
“Because the thing is, you're my best friend, and, like,” he hesitated, trying to find the right words, “if I was going to… I mean, if I were to…”  
“Just say it, you dork.”  
“If I was going to like someone, they'd be just like you.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Exactly like you.”   
“Hmm.”  
“They would be you. They are you. I like you, Gwen,” he wondered if his heart was actually going to burst out of his chest, or if it just felt like that. “So, if now’s the time for the ‘don't catch feelings’ talk, it's kind of too late.” 

She felt her heart land a perfectly executed triple flip.  
“Here's the thing with that,” she lightly ran her fingers over his chest, watching it move with his unsteady breathing. “The thing is, I already… caught feelings… for someone.”  
“Oh?” The disappointment in his voice stung horribly, but she couldn't resist the opportunity.   
“Yeah. Someone, who, actually, a lot like you.”  
“Oh…”   
“Exactly like you, really.”  
“Okay. I… understand. I hope that-”  
“Oh my god, David, it is you.”   
He perked up, sitting bolt upright in his excitement, “Wait, you like me?”  
“Oh my god,” she covered her face with her hands, “this is so fucking high school.”  
Gripping her wrists, he pulled her hands off her face, “Gwendolyn, you have to tell me right now if this is a prank.”   
“It's not a prank!”  
“Are you sure?”

Catching the sides of his face in her hands, she pulled him down into a warm kiss that bubbled within his chest, spilling out into overwhelming happiness. He laced his arms beneath her, loving the way she fit perfectly inside his embrace.   
She was perfect. She was phenomenal. She was… Gwen. She was his Gwen. He could feel her smile as he kissed her back.  
“You're so fucking obtuse.”  
“I’m sorry,” he couldn't hold back his overjoyed laugh, his happiness spilling out of him. She laughed too, amused at his excitement. He didn't have the ability to care about the way their teeth knocked together as he pulled her tighter, never wanting to let her go. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her breath a happy sigh as he continued to kiss her. 

Eventually, he pulled back just far enough to speak, “Hey, is it okay if I, uh, if I change my answer?”  
She cocked her eyebrow, “Your answer?”   
“About my happy place. Can I change it?”   
She wrapped her arms around his neck, realizing just how smitten she was with this total idiot.  
“I don't see why not. What are you changing it to?” She had a feeling she already knew, of course. She just wanted to hear him say it.   
“Camping, with a fire, some music, and,” he paused, “my CBFLGF.”   
She blinked up at him, “Seriously? That’s what you’re picking?”   
“No,” he smiled, kissing the side of her neck. “But just in case the kids ask.” She hummed pleasantly, holding him tight to herself, never wanting to let go. He was an absolute dork, but he was her absolute dork, and as he kissed her, she was 110% sure this was exactly where she wanted to be.


End file.
